


The Least Push of Joy Breaks Up My Feet

by flarechaser



Category: 30歳まで童貞だと魔法使いになれるらしい | 30-sai Made Doutei da to Mahou Tsukai ni Nareru Rashii (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-Episode 10, and sometimes they show up at 7pm on a sunday and hit you over the head with a feelings club, i dont know who i am if im not using emily dickinson for titles, soft, sometimes your muse leaves you on read for 2 years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28063290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flarechaser/pseuds/flarechaser
Summary: Kurosawa is being very reasonable about this whole mind reading thing, which Adachi thinks is very unreasonable of him.
Relationships: Adachi Kiyoshi/Kurosawa Yuichi
Comments: 35
Kudos: 200





	The Least Push of Joy Breaks Up My Feet

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Emily Dickinson's poem 252 "I can wade Grief-"
> 
> I can wade Grief—  
> Whole Pools of it—  
> I'm used to that—  
> But the least push of Joy  
> Breaks up my feet—  
> And I tip—drunken—  
> Let no Pebble—smile—  
> 'Twas the New Liquor—  
> That was all!
> 
> Power is only Pain—  
> Stranded, thro' Discipline,  
> Till Weights—will hang—  
> Give Balm—to Giants—  
> And they'll wilt, like Men—  
> Give Himmaleh—  
> They'll Carry—Him!

“I feel like you’re taking this better than you reasonably should.”

They were in Kurosawa’s apartment, laying on the floor of the living room with their feet up on the couch. True to form, Adachi had slipped at some point during his confession and pulled something in his back; Kurosawa swore by this exercise for pulled muscles.

No word on why Kurosawa felt the need to put his feet up. Adachi had done his best to maintain space between them since he had tried to explain, so every time Kurosawa reached out to bridge the gap was that much more notable.

_ If you can hear me, say ‘penguin.’ _

“Penguin,” Adachi replied. His arms were getting tired holding his hands over his face, but he wasn’t ready to look at - anything. He kept his eyes closed as he pulled one of Kurosawa’s throw pillows over his face.

“It is a lot to take in,” Kurosawa said, reasonably. He hadn’t let go of Adachi’s hand after that check-in, and his thoughts pretty much reflected the same thing. There was a lot rattling around in his brain, different sections of Adachi’s confession layered over each other in a somewhat chaotic mindscape, interspersed with well-worn memories of every time they touched, casually or with intent.

Adachi squeezed his hand in warning and began to pull away. “I can’t really turn it off.”

Kurosawa squeezed back and released him only reluctantly. Even after everything, the end of every touch held a lonely longing. “I don’t really blame you for not telling me.”

Adachi pressed the pillow into his own face and groaned in frustration, before hugging it over his chest and turning to look at Kurosawa. His face was pensive, thoughtful - but not angry. Not even disappointed as he had been during their first practice date. “That’s what I don’t understand! I invaded your privacy. I lied to you!”

“You were in a difficult situation. If you told everyone not to touch you because you could read their thoughts, you would have been institutionalized.” He pulled his legs off of the couch and sat up in a very smooth, fluid movement that Adachi tried not to stare at (unsuccessfully). “It’s like-” He glanced at his bookshelf. “It’s like when they found out that Ike had worked with the enemy mages when he first joined Crimson! He wasn’t just going to tell some nobody mercenary he just met his darkest secrets, was he? And it all worked out eventually.”

“This is nothing like that.”

“Only because Ike made the choice to betray his family, and his actions were discovered later despite him trying to hide it. Your magic wasn’t a choice, but you still decided to be brave and tell me.”

Adachi pulled the pillow back over his face. This was too mushy, why wasn’t Kurosawa more offended? Kurosawa squeezed his arm (wordless amusement threaded through with a half-formed thought of putting the kettle on) and he felt more than heard Kurosawa stand up and pad away into the rest of the apartment, though the vibrations in the floor meant he didn’t go far. The kitchen, probably. He wasn’t there long, and sat back down next to Adachi, taking his hand and gently pulling it away from the pillow.

“It’s a bit startling, but I’m not angry, or embarrassed.” Kurosawa’s thoughts and words were united in this. “The things you heard are feelings I have long accepted and I am not ashamed of them. The only reason I didn’t want you to hear them was because I didn’t want to burden you, or drive you away.”

Adachi slowly pulled the pillow away from his eyes with his free hand, peeking up at Kurosawa in the pause. The words apparently took them both back to Kurosawa’s first confession, but only for a moment. “If you could hear all the ways I’ve thought about you and you’re still here, then I guess I didn’t have anything to worry about.” 

They held each others’ gazes for a moment, Kurosawa overflowing with a wordless, giddy affection that slowly settled out into  _ it was probably so upsetting, and he’s still only thinking of me. _

The pillow was no longer equal to the task of hiding how Kurosawa’s regard affected him, so Adachi was back to covering his face with his hand.  _ He’s so cute. _ That only made him whine in embarrassment.  _ Cute, cute, cute, cute, cute! _

“Aahhh, you’re doing that on purpose!”

_ Oops _ . Sheer delight overlaid a gentle laugh. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” Kurosawa released Adachi’s hand, setting it down on top of the other one over his eyes, patting it twice before he stood up and moved back to the kitchen. He puttered around for a while, even humming a bit, apparently content to let Adachi recover from the teasing. In a few minutes he was back, setting a mug beside Adachi’s elbow. A sweet herbal aroma rose into the air in a lighter, more comfortable silence.

Adachi sat up and picked up his mug. The warmth seeped through the ceramic and into his hands, loosening a tension he’d been carrying for days. Kurosawa wasn’t going to leave him. Had that even been an option? It was hard sometimes in the throes of an anxiety spiral to remember certain realities of his situation in life, but with a soothing tea filling two of his senses and Kurosawa taking up the rest, it was easier. These things were immutable, and would not change because of minor mistakes or bad luck. The sun would rise tomorrow. The world wasn’t going to end. He was good at his job, actually, and knew what he was doing. His colleagues respected him. His friends cared about him.

Kurosawa loved him.

A feeling shivered through him that he had trouble recognizing - partly relief, partly something else. A strong breeze after a spring storm, insistent in driving away the clouds. 

Kurosawa  _ loved  _ him.

He settled in closer to Kurosawa, facing him and just shy of touching. The feeling expanded, zipping across his skin and swooping into his stomach where it coiled, waiting. Ah.

Anticipation.

“Kurosawa.” His boyfriend looked up at the sound of his name, a picture of open attentiveness. Adachi couldn’t help but lick his lips nervously as he leaned in closer. His gaze flicked down to Kurosawa’s mouth and back up. Kurosawa wasn’t exactly frozen, but he was very still. It was the stillness of waiting for a shy cat to approach, the patience of leaves upturned in anticipation of rain. “I’ve made you wait a long time.”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” he replied, his voice low. “You’re worth waiting for. You’re worth anything.”

Adachi wanted to reach out, but didn’t dare break the moment with a stray thought. His nerves sang, but quietly, pushed to the back of his mind. He found some measure of bravery to reply: “You’re worth listening to. You’re worth chasing.” He swallowed, breathed. “You’re worth loving.” There was only a breath of space between them now. “You don’t have to wait anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> I sure hope Ragna Crimson is not a real story because I definitely borrowed some plot points from Critical Role for it.
> 
> I've been dealing with some mental health stuff, which is why I haven't posted anything in a while, but this show is like a shot of the good-brain-worky-juice straight to my barely functional mood centers.
> 
> Stay safe y'all, stay healthy, pet a soft animal, and just, enjoy life.


End file.
